In that moment, I knew what to do—sat in front of my computer exactly twenty-four hours before my flight was scheduled, got ready to enter my booking number, and pressed the button. Expecting my boarding pass to indicate an A or B boarding group, instead, I’d been assigned to the very back, row 29.
Most likely, you know I’m talking about Southwest, the budget airline we’ve come to love for its one bag free rule, lower-cost flights, and even for its dry peanuts. But what was this aberration? The airline has replaced groups with numbers. I was assigned to Group 5 because I’d bought a Basic fare. The attendant explained the particulars. No more standing in line holding a pass with an assigned boarding number and maneuvering into my proper waiting spot, which sometimes sparked conversations. We chatted about children, books, or the best place to eat in town.
I now had the privilege of standing in line with a number. No more free bags or giving up seats as a friendly gesture, say, if a family wanted to sit together on the plane. Flying on Southwest suddenly seemed as cheerless as the other carriers. The attendant on my flight rattled off at breakneck speed all the usual instructions about seatbelts and oxygen masks. I wanted to tell her to shut up. The attendants used to make great jokes laughing at themselves. Now they sounded like everyone else. Laughter never cost us anything, but it seems even that has flown out the window.
Over its 56 years in business,Southwest has conditioned us as a partially employee-owned company to expect a different experience. It wasn’t just about the peanuts. Southwest, you’ve now become nondescript. Maybe think about break dancing attendants delivering peanuts and pretzels up and down the aisle.